Seeing is Believing
by TyLeeChan
Summary: Aftermath: Blurr didn't want to see these 'ghosts'. He didn't want anything to do with them. But this supernatural ability gave him a special view as the plans of an over-zealous clone unfolded. Sequel to Right of All Beings Blurr Cliffjumper Rosanna


**Another installment done. Finally. I must say I actually like how this one turned out (which could jinx me and make you all hate it). I intended to have it longer, but found as I continued writing that it got distracting from the feel I wanted, and so I'm going to combine the scene that was going to be here with another in the next one. This is my first time writing anyone drunk (that was fun XD) and Rosanna. Oh yeah, there is small hints of CliffjumperxRosanna in this, which is one of my new shippings I support XD But it isn't too severe and can be taken as friendship if you prefer. Please critique me! I want to get better! After this one everything happens after the major event that they last three have been about. I just had to bring the three major groups of characters up to speed individually before I could continue. Well, enjoy!**

* * *

Blurr stared at the cup of oil in front of him warily. The liquid jostled a bit as a `bot two seats away from him slammed his servo on the counter to get the bartender's attention. The `bot looked like he had already had a few rounds. Blurr scowled and scooted over so he could be as far away from the rowdy customer as possible. If anything was about to start, he didn't want to be a part of it.

Maccadam's Oil House wasn't close to being full tonight. In fact, it was almost quiet in comparison to the other times Blurr had gone. Apparently it had a slow reopening after Sentinel had closed it during his time as 'Magnus'. That didn't change his feelings about the place. Bad things happened in Maccadam's. Everybot knew that. And Cliffjumper had dragged him there against his will. Again.

He probably wouldn't feel so uncomfortable if they were sitting in a table where nobot could really see them, but Cliffjumper always insisted on sitting at the counter, in view of everybot who came in for a drink. Cliffjumper didn't care what `bots thought of him; in fact, he would probably just use their ill feelings toward him as an excuse to beat them up. But Blurr had become self-conscious of himself lately, and hated the fact that everybot stared at him. He was an intelligence agent: his job was to get the mission done _without_ being seen. Now all the `bots in Cybertron it seemed wanted to get a look at him, to see the '`bot who lived'.

He didn't deserve the attention. He didn't want the attention. But he was stuck with it, probably until he went offline.

"You gonna stop staring and actually _drink_ that, Blurr?" Cliffjumper asked. He was still pretty sober, but a few drinks later he would be out of it, Blurr knew.

"No, I'm probably not. I've decided that I'm going to be the designated driver tonight, which means no oil consumption for me, and that you won't get lost on your way home." Blurr explained.

Cliffjumper frowned. "I don't get lost."

"You don't remember getting lost, but as a matter of fact you have, on several occasions might I add. The autotroopers have gotten a bit annoyed at showing you the way each time you come here. I'll be doing both them and you a huge favor, so you better not try to dissuade me at all." Blurr replied.

The truth was, Blurr was sick of the taste of oil. Cliffjumper had forced him to drink a cup upon every visit, and it was downright revolting. He didn't understand how `bots could like it so much. And it never amounted to anything good. Drunks embarrassed themselves more than Sentinel did while serving as 'Magnus'.

"Fine, fine. I won't argue. Your loss anyways." Cliffjumper shrugged as he gulped down a portion of his own cup, "This is the last time, though. I promise."

He made the same promise the last three visits to Maccadam's. He said that they wouldn't come to celebrate anymore, and that he would try to remain sober for the rest of his career as head of intel. Blurr knew he wouldn't be able to keep his promise, but he was glad that he was starting to take some responsibility with his job. It was an important role, and Cliffjumper was a good `bot to do it, even if other `bots didn't think so. It would be a shame if he threw it all away because of a dirty habit. And it would give the `bots who didn't believe in him the satisfaction of being proved right.

Blurr looked at the wall behind the counter. It was decorated with all sorts of oil licenses and permits so that they could sell the oil, as well as pictures of certain customers, all looking relatively happy with cups in their servos. He noted that there were no pictures of the fights that often occurred soon after. The pictures only told half of the story. For some reason, it made him think of the office Optimus Magnus had. There really was no logical connection to that and this wall, and Blurr was a bit confused at how it just popped up. Perhaps it was because he had been mulling over this for quite awhile.

When he had first seen the 'ghosts' in the office, he had been sure he was just seeing things. Sometimes when one of his triggers was set off he would hallucinate, but usually it was more in a form of a flashback than like this. Why would he see Prowl and Starscream, whom he was sure were offline? And then there was that unidentifiable clone that had been connected to the Matrix. He didn't even know who that was supposed to be.

This was all so confusing. None of it made sense. And yet he was drawn to it, desperately needing to find a way to explain it. Not wanting to make an appointment with Optimus (he was still angry at him for not letting him go back on the field), he would often walk by the office and poke his head in when he knew that Optimus was out. There they would be, standing in the room. Sometimes they would seem to notice him, looking a bit surprised that he could see them. They couldn't talk from what he could tell though. Not to him at least. Their mouths would open but only silence came out.

Blurr wondered if it was just his luck that he was plagued by this sight. Nothing normal ever happened to him. He always got the strange things. Like being controlled by the Master of Disaster for deca-cycles. Being crushed into a cube. And now this. He wished he could just do his job, with no problems whatsoever. But now he couldn't even do that, thanks to the new Magnus. He 'wasn't ready to go back out on the field' and a bunch of other slag.

Cliffjumper was ordering his third drink. Good, he wouldn't quite be drunk yet. It usually took the fourth one to put him under. Blurr needed him as sober as possible to get a decent insight from him. Although, if he was slightly intoxicated, he might actually get a truthful answer, since Cliffjumper sometimes lied, or at least stretched the truth, to not hurt his feelings. Blurr had noticed that on several occasions.

"Hey, Cliffjumper, would you mind if I ask you a question? It's kind of serious but I suppose for the most part it can be taken figuratively, if you want to take it that way." Blurr asked.

"Hm? Oh, yeah sure." Cliffjumper replied, obviously disinterested in anything that wasn't in his cup.

"If a `bot would perchance, say, see imprints of `bots that went offline, even though he _knew_ it was impossible in practically every level of science known and no matter how many times he reminded himself of that fact he would continue to see them, but only in a certain place, what would you think of him?"

Cliffjumper blinked a few times. "I guess I'd say he's crazy. Why'dya want to ask me about that?"

Blurr frowned, completely anticipating the answer and yet resenting it at the same time. Did this mean he was crazy? He felt sane. But then again, not many `bots were aware of their insanity. Or at least that was what he was told.

"No reason in particular. I was just a bit curious, I suppose." He replied, shrugging.

"This isn't one of those questions where you act like you're talking about somebot else, but you're really talking about yourself, is it?" Cliffjumper asked, his viz scanners narrowing.

"O-Of course not!" Blurr replied quickly. He couldn't even think of anything else to say. No excuse he could come up with would work. Cliffjumper didn't look convinced, but politely dropped the subject.

"Works been slow lately. Nothing is really happening. Anywhere." He informed, finishing off his cup and ordering another. He downed this one in record time, but waited almost a cycle before going to the next one.

Blurr knew he was just saying this to make him feel better, but it didn't work. No matter how boring it was, Blurr would rather be working as an agent than doing absolutely nothing. It was a part of him that he really needed back.

"At least you have a job, and it's one that you love to do." Blurr said with a sigh.

"You're way too mopey, Blurr. You'll get back soon. I'm makin' sure of that. Just hafta get the council's approval, s`all." Cliffjumper assured, his words starting to slur together, "Ya know whatchu should do? Take up a hobby."

"A hobby? What could that possibly do for me?"

"Dunno. 's just what everybot says `n times like this."

"Well, then, what kind of hobby would I have?"

"I's thinkin' maybe…street racin' or sumthin like that…"

Blurr felt like slugging him in the faceplate, but knew that Cliffjumper didn't mean it that way. "Did it ever occur to you that I have plenty of experience, more than I ever wanted in my life, in street racing?"

"Oh yeah…" Cliffjumper smiled sheepishly, "Forgot `bout that."

Blurr had always found it interesting to observe Cliffjumper while he was drunk. His personality was either enhanced or completely different. Blurr had seen him super giddy and miserable at practically the same time. Usually it just made his already hot-headed temper even edgier, and Blurr sometimes had to get him out before he got himself slagged by `bots almost three times his size. But in all those instances there was one thing in common: he was always very insensitive. It was never like he meant to do it, but it always seemed that he just spoke before thinking it through. Blurr often ignored this, but now it was ticking him off.

"Y'know Blurr…Ya asked me a question…so now I'm gonna ask ya one…" Cliffjumper began.

"Okay, then, shoot away."

"…I didn't bring my cannon. Ya said I'd get `n trouble…"

"No, no, Cliffjumper, I mean you can ask me your question." Blurr replied, trying not to be irritated.

"Wassup with femmes? They all _weird_ `n stuff." Cliffjumper raised his servos in frustration, some oil splashing out of the cup and hitting Blurr's armor, "I mean, why'sit so hard t' understand 'em?"

"I'm not really an expert, or an anything, about femmes, so you're asking the wrong `bot entirely." Blurr admitted.

Cliffjumper seemed to ignore this (or he didn't hear) and continued to rant. "See there's this one who's _super_ annoyin'. Works at the Hall of Records `n thinks her job's t' bug the slag outta me. Never shuts up! Always talkin' `n talkin' `n makin' me wanna punch her but I can't."

"Maybe you could kindly ask her to stop talking and leave you alone? I'm sure that if she understands how much it annoys you she would stop." Blurr offered.

"Nah. She's just like ya…doesn't listen when ya don't wants `er to talk, doesn't seem t' care and just keeps on yakkin'." Cliffjumper slumped down into his seat and slowly sipped his oil, "Makes it super annoyin'. Least she don't do it so slaggin' fast…"

Oh, so Cliffjumper thought his talking was annoying, huh? Blurr rolled his viz scanners. Everybot seemed to think that. Personally, he thought it was annoying to have to wait patiently for everybot else to say something so slowly. Almost agonizing, actually. Like wasting precious nanoclicks when you could get what you wanted to say across so much more quickly. Let's see them try to be in his situation all the time. It isn't easy when there's only one fast-talker in a world of slow.

"Who is this 'super annoying' femme, anyways? I used to go the Hall of Records all the time when I had to do research on certain missions. Maybe I know her."

"She's new. Think she joined a bit before ya left for Earth. Name's Rosanna." Cliffjumper informed.

"…Yeah I don't recall ever meeting her. Though her name sounds very pretty." Blurr smirked, "Do you by any chance think she's attractive, Cliffjumper?"

"Slag no!" He answered quickly, "Just annoyin'."

"I'm picking up hints that strongly suggest otherwise."

"You might jus get a fist `n your face if ya don't stop pokin' into my privacy!"

Cliffjumper's threat wasn't just a drunk rambling, but Blurr ignored it. "I think that you might just actually _like_ this femme."

"I need another drink!" Cliffjumper shouted at the bartender.

The `bot looked at him suspiciously, "Ya got enough credits for that?"

"D'ya even know who I am!?" Cliffjumper hissed, "I'm Cliffjumper Prime, head of 'ntel. `n I think that I make `nough credits t' buy all the oil here if I slaggin' felt like it."

"But do you really think that another drink would do you any good?" Blurr asked.

"Hey, if he wants to spend all his credits on oil, let him do it, I say." The bartender said with a sly grin. "Sure thing, 'Cliffjumper Prime'. Another cup coming right up."

Blurr didn't like this `bot. He was exploiting Cliffjumper blatantly, and didn't seem to care what it would do to him. Blurr wanted to stop him from selling the oil to Cliffjumper. To stick up for his friend. But at the same time, he didn't know if Cliffjumper would consider it a favor at all. He was wasted enough not to care if he was being used.

The bartender slid the cup down the counter and Cliffjumper grabbed it quickly.

"He really is Cliffjumper Prime, just to let you know." Blurr said.

"Oh really?" He took a closer look at Cliffjumper as the red `bot chugged down the oil, "With all the drunks I see you never know who's telling the truth. Gotta say…looks different than what I expected him to look like. I mean, with all the talk about him and all."

"Are ya sayin' I'm short?" Cliffjumper growled. "'Cos you don't wanna know what I do t' `bots who say that."

"Not at all." The bartender replied, "I actually knew a `bot during the Great War who was a lot shorter than you." And with that, he turned and went to serve a `bot a few seats down from them.

Cliffjumper scoffed. "Liar, liar, pants on fire…"

"Why are you saying that?" Blurr asked incredulously. He had never even heard of that expression before.

"He has t' be lyin', `cos I knows that I'm the shortest `bot on Cybertron."

"Surely there is a shorter `bot somewhere. How would you even be certain that you were the shortest?"

"I'm certain `cos I says I'm certain!!" He cried, drawing the attention of several of the `bots in the bar, "Slaggit, Blurr, I'm the shortest, y'hear!?"

"If you say so, Cliffjumper…" Blurr sighed. He could feel the stares of the other `bots, unsure of whether they were looking because of the commotion or because they recognized him. Either way, it was embarrassing.

"Hey, Blurr…you knows about whatchu's askin' me `bout before…?" Cliffjumper asked, seemingly calmed down from his last outburst.

"Yeah, I remember." Blurr replied, not sure how they got back onto this subject.

"I's jus thinkin' `bout it, `n I thought `bout somethin'." He paused, "If ya were seein' these 'ghosts' or whatever, then ya are either crazy or…" He trailed off, staring off ahead as if something interesting was there, even though there was nothing of the sort.

"What? Either crazy or what?" Blurr asked desperately. For all he knew, Cliffjumper could be on to something.

"…I forgot…" Cliffjumper grinned again, then pointed at the cup in front of Blurr, "Ya gonna drink that?"

Blurr looked back at his neglected cup and frowned. Of course he forgot. Why couldn't he have forgotten something less important? Blurr really needed to have a reason for seeing these things. And not just being crazy. He wasn't crazy. He couldn't be crazy, it just didn't make sense. Or did it?

To Cliffjumper's horror, Blurr swiped the cup and poured it down his throat, cringing as he swallowed the corrosive liquid.

So much for being the 'designated driver'.

* * *

Blurr groaned and held his processor as he slid into a bench on the side of the street. He had been doing his early morning run, as usual, but found it was a lot harder to do when you had an awful hangover. Why had he ordered more rounds? He knew this would happen if he did. Maybe Cliffjumper had persuaded him. He really didn't know. Last night was a big mess in his memory core, and he couldn't make head or tail of it. For all he knew, they had spent it crying. Or, if Cliffjumper had his way, mugging some `bots that rubbed them the wrong way. He hoped that wasn't the case.

His stabilizing servos ached, practically screaming for him to start running again. But he knew if he did so, he would probably pass out or run into a building or something. That wouldn't be good. Until this wave of his processorache past, he would have to remain grounded, no matter how excruciating it would be. It almost felt like when he wasn't allowed to run while he was in recovery. Like he was being separated from the one thing that truly allowed him to live. Only a few more cycles and he would be able to start again, he reminded himself. Only a few more cycles.

He wondered if this is what Cliffjumper felt like when he couldn't get a drink of oil. He had told him that usually it made his processor unfocused and his whole chassis shake. Right now Blurr's processor was pounding too hard to tell if it was unfocused.

The atmosphere suddenly seemed thicker. It barely lasted a moment, but Blurr noticed it. That was odd. It was reminiscent of the feeling when somebot was transwarping near you. He looked around. There was no residual transwarp energy that he could see. Maybe he was just imagining things. Again. He figured he should get used to unexplained anomalies. Slowly, he leaned his head back and tried to relax.

As if on cue, a group of `bots ran in front of him, catching his attention. Only these weren't normal `bots. He groaned as he recognized the energy outline of Prowl leading the pack of three other 'ghosts'. Just his luck. He didn't really want to think about this right now.

_Ignore them, Blurr. If you are crazy, there is a high possibility that they will leave you alone if you ignore them. _He told himself. Yeah. That would work.

No. It wouldn't. His curiosity took over, and with a great amount of effort he lifted himself up and followed them.

The first thing he realized was that for once he didn't see Prowl with Starscream or the clone. These `bots that were with him now were ones he had never seen as ghosts before. He wondered where the other two were. Maybe that's why Prowl had left the office. He was looking for them?

The next thing he realized was that Red Alert was one of the new ghosts.

At first he couldn't believe it. Did this mean that she was offline? She had helped him during the early stages of his psychological trauma. She had actually been the `bot that had diagnosed it. He had heard that she had been redeployed to her old space bridge (much to her irritation), but surely it wasn't dangerous out there. She couldn't have gone offline, right? He didn't know who the other `bots with her were, but he assumed they were on her space bridge team.

He found it hard to keep up with them, not because they were moving fast but because he would continuously fly past them and have to slow down. They were running pretty good though. He was impressed. Whatever they were doing, there was obviously a sense of urgency about it. Blurr zipped between `bots walking down the street as he trailed them. If he had been paying attention to the `bots that were actually still online instead of the ghosts, he might have noticed the femme before he ran into her.

Discs scattered across the street as both of them fell on their gearshafts. Everybot else that was commuting simply avoided the pile-up the two of them would've caused by walking around them. The femme, who had pink armor, blinked a few times, as if coming out of a daze.

"Slaggit!" Blurr swore as he picked himself back up from the ground. He couldn't lose track of the ghosts, but he couldn't just leave this femme here either. It would be rude. "Here, let me help you up." He offered her his servo, "I cannot even begin to tell you how immensely sorry I am for that. Do you need me to help you pick anything up?"

She took the servo and regained her bearings. "Oh no, it was my fault. I was being a little spacey, thinking about this song I had heard..." She smiled fondly, "And thank you, I would like a little help."

They began to clean up the mess they made, Blurr working a lot faster than her. All of the discs were identical in appearance, though they were all numbered as if they had been catalogued. He had seen something like them before. Wasting no time whatsoever, he gathered them and handed them back to her.

"Here you go. Once again, I apologize for the inconvenience, but now I really must be go-" He began, looking desperately for the ghosts. They weren't too far ahead of him, and for some reason they had stopped moving forward. It wouldn't be too hard to catch up.

"You're Blurr, right?" The femme asked, discs held safe in her servos. Blurr felt himself grow irritated. Now, of all times, did somebot have to recognize him again? Why couldn't they just leave him alone!?

"Yes, yes, that would in fact be me."

"You talk faster than Cliffjumper says you do." She informed.

"How do you know Cliffjumper?" Blurr asked with a scrutinizing gaze.

"He comes to the Hall of Records every now and then." She said with a shrug, "Seems to think I'm a bit like you. We both like to talk."

"So _you're_ the infamous Rosanna…" Blurr realized aloud.

"Cliffjumper's mentioned me to you!?" She brightened up considerably. She seemed a bit too eager, and this only increased Blurr's suspicions.

"Yes, actually last night we talked a bit about you."

"What'd he say?"

Blurr consider how he could put it nicely. "He said I was a lot like you too."

"That's great!" She exclaimed. Then, to Blurr's surprise, she began to twirl around in a circle, giggling as she did so. Some of the discs fell in the process, and she bent over to pick them back up. What was this femme's malfunction?

He really had to get back to his own business. This was too much of a distraction for him. What if he lost the ghosts? This was the first lead on anything about them that he had had in…well, actually the first ever. All he had ever seen them do before was sit in Optimus's office. Now they were doing something. Maybe he could help them somehow! He looked over to where he last saw them.

On glance and he knew he wasn't going to lose them in a million stellar cycles.

All the ghosts were still where he had left them, but along with them was some sort of monster…thing. He didn't know how to describe it at all. It seemed to be green, although the transparency made it hard to tell, and composed entirely of some sort of jelly-like substance. He had never seen anything like it before. He let his mouth drop open as he stared. The ghosts seemed to be running away from it, as it set its sights on grabbing them. And then, on the other spectrum, `bots continued to walk down the street. They would probably never know what was happening.

"…Hello? Helloooo? Blurr, are you okay?" Rosanna was waving her free servo in his faceplate. He had to step back and shake his head a few times to get back into focus. "Looks like I'm not the only one who spaces out. Cliffjumper was right; we _do_ have a lot in common. Maybe we could be friends!"

Blurr felt his spark sigh at the sight of the femme, visor full of innocence. He didn't want to crush her hopes; there was a chance they could be friends. But at the moment he had other things to do. There was nothing left but to see what she thought of all of this.

"Rosanna…this might sound completely insane…but I've got to ask you something and I need you to take it seriously."

"You're asking for _my_ opinion?" She gawked, "Sure I'd love to!"

"Look behind you right now. Do you see anything unusual? Anything at all?" He pointed to where the monster was, one of the `bots now tight in his grasp. Slaggit! Not that Blurr knew if he could do anything to help them, but just watching Red Alert and her comrades struggle was painful.

She turned and looked for a nanoclick, seemingly taking in everything she could see. "Hm…looks like they might be doing some renovation on that building over there. See? There's some kind of construction equipment over…" She stopped, realizing that Blurr was almost glaring at her, "That's not what you meant, was it?"

"No, but it certainly answers my question." He replied.

"What did you expect me to see?"

"I'd rather not say and keep the little bit of pride I have left."

"Why would you let a little something like pride get between friends?" She asked.

Blurr frowned. He really didn't want to tell her anything…but she already knew that something was wrong with him. Why not just let her hear the whole thing? Besides, she didn't seem like the type to care much.

"I'm…I'm still not sure."

"C'mon, Blurr." She smiled, "I don't bite."

"You're not going to believe this, though I don't blame you, I wouldn't either, but right now, right behind you is some kind of giant monster that's attacking a group of `bots that it seems that nobot but me can see." He said quickly, hoping he wouldn't have to repeat. It was quiet for a few nanoclicks, his words seemingly hanging in the air.

Rosanna looked very upset, a drastic change from her optimistic self she had been the whole time. "You're making fun of me, aren't you? Mechs seem to think its funny when I fall for stuff like this."

"I wish I was. I wish this was all some big practical joke that I could make disappear at my whim, which of course would be right now because to be frank I am so slagging tired of it!" He said, letting his frustration out, "All I want to do is be a field agent, do my job to the best of my ability, and live a slightly normal life without strange things happening all the time!"

There was another silence. Blurr heaved his chestplate a few times, trying to get rid of the pent-up aggravation. Rosanna just stared at him, almost as if she was studying him. Finally, she spoke up.

"I believe you, Blurr."

"You do?" He asked, surprised.

She nodded. "I haven't seen raw emotion like that in a long time. Not even the best actors can reproduce something so pure." She walked forward, "So what does this monster look like? Why do you think it's attacking?"

Blurr felt calmer now. Having somebot else share this knowledge really took the weight off of it all.

"I don't think I would ever be able to tell you accurately what this monster looks like. It's like…some kind of green energon that's alive and blobby and has servos and things." He tried to form an outline with his finger, but didn't think it did the creature justice. "And if I had an inkling of a clue as to why it was attacking, I wouldn't just be standing here and talking. I would be trying to stop it by any way possible."

"Then why don't you just try anyways?"

"I've seen these `bots that it's fighting before…I could never really touch them. With that in mind, it seems illogical to assume that I would be able to inflict any damage, whether significant or not, on this monster."

"Are the `bots offline?" She said it so bluntly, as if she talked about stuff like this all the time.

"I-I don't know. Prowl, you know, the guy that died during the final battle? He's one of them."

"I think I know what's happening then." She announced, "You were in a near-death situation, right?"

_Of course! Who _doesn't_ know about that!?_ "Yeah, I was."

"Maybe that somehow caused you to be a part of both worlds. Your spark almost completely went to the Well, but a piece of it remained there when you came back. Because of that, you can see `bots that are offline, and the struggles they may be having in a spiritual realm." She paused, then looked at him, "How does that sound?"

The fact that she just seemed to pick that out of her processor on the spot stunned Blurr. He had spent a lot of time thinking about this, and he had never come to any conclusion like that. Not even one that was slightly plausible. And now it seemed that he finally had an explanation for his 'sight'.

"That…actually makes a lot of sense!" He said in amazement.

"Oh, I hoped so!" She bounced on the heels of her feet in glee, "But you do realize that that means you have such a bigger purpose than you think."

"Like how?"

"Well, first off this means that you-"

Before she could finish her sentence the lights all down the street flickered wildly. Blurr turned toward one of them. A power outage? Those didn't happen often. Cybertron had a great power plant system.

There was a clattering sound. He turned back to find discs spread out over the street again. Oh great. Rosanna had dropped them again.

"Hey, Rosanna, would you like me to-"

It was then he got a good look at Rosanna. She looked oddly pale, her visor no longer showing a gleam that suggested that she could see anything. She tottered dangerously over, and Blurr barely had time to reach out and grab her.

"Rosanna!? Are you okay!?" He cried. She didn't respond. "Rosanna!?"

Suddenly her sparkchamber opened. Blurr's viz scanners widened as he saw something floating out of it. It only took a moment for him to recognize it. Her spark! He wanted to reach for it and somehow shove it back into its respectful place, but was afraid he would drop her in the process. Not that grabbing it would probably do anything good anyways. He had no choice but to watch as it continued to fly upwards. He didn't even have the sense to scream, even though all he felt was constant horror.

The gravity of the situation suddenly hit him. As her spark went higher, it was joined with countless others and eventually faded away. He held closer to Rosanna's cold chassis as he looked around. At every point that he could see there was a `bot lying on the ground, sparkless and bleeding. But oddly enough they hadn't begun to gray. Just like Rosanna.

He didn't know what to make of this. Just barely a cycle ago he had been having a very insightful conversation with Rosanna. And now…now he didn't know what happened. She wasn't gray, so by logic she wasn't offline. But at the same time she didn't have a spark, so by logic she couldn't possibly be online. What kind of madness was this?

He led his gaze to where the monster had been. There was no sign of the blob, but he could clearly see the ghosts that had been fighting it. They were joined with a small organic whom Blurr knew well. Sari Sumdac, as young as she had been when she had liberated him. Were they a part of this? Not in the sense that they caused it, but was this what they were hurrying about? Did they know what was happening?

He picked up Rosanna and cradled her in his servos, cringing as some of her energon leaked onto his armor. He was surprised how light she was. Of course, she was a bit shorter than Cliffjumper, and the fact that she was a femme meant she was more lightweight. He had also heard that when a `bot went offline they lost most of their chassis weight…

No! Don't think about that! There was still a chance, though slightly, that she wasn't offline. Just like there once was a larger chance of them being friends…

His commlink crackled and came to life. "Blurr!? Blurr are you there?"

It was Cliffjumper. Blurr felt a little relieved, but didn't let his defenses drop for a nanoclick.

"Oh, spark, Cliffjumper you will not believe what is happening out here, `bots without sparks all over at almost the exact same time. I can't even see another `bot that isn't on the ground on this street. It's unbelievable…it's not real! I don't understand-I don't understand-I don't-!!"

"Calm down, Blurr. You have to keep on a level-head, got it?" Cliffjumper barked. Like he was in the position to talk. He sounded not too far away from having a breakdown himself. "We've lost the energy signals of more than three-fourths of the population, and that's only on Cybertron. Who knows what it's like out on the colonies and space bridges…And there are no Decepticon energy signals either. Not even of the ones in the stockade. It's like we lost them all."

"Have you gotten out of your office yet and looked at it, Cliffjumper?"

"I can't. The whole building is in a lockdown. But the statistics that are coming in tell the story pretty well." He informed.

"Just without the open circuitry and energon shoved in your faceplate." Blurr grimaced.

"Is it really that bad?"

"Of course it's that bad! The smell is almost enough to make you go into stasis. It's revolting! It's-" Blurr stopped. "It got Rosanna."

"…I-I know…" Cliffjumper replied quietly. Blurr couldn't tell how he was reacting, but he knew he couldn't be taking it well, "Hers was one of the first signals I noticed that left…"

"It happened…It happened right in front of me. We had just been talking and then suddenly it happened! I couldn't do anything to stop it! No matter- no matter what I did I couldn't have stopped it!" Blurr sunk down and held Rosanna closer, "Spark, you have no idea how much I didn't want it to happen…"

"I…I don't blame you, Blurr." Cliffjumper said with sincerity and sadness, something Blurr had never heard him use before, "Now you have to focus. You're my only way to the outside."

"What do you mean?"

"All of the other agents are gone. You're the only one left."

Blurr blinked upon that realization. "What do you need me to do?"

"At the moment, just do some recon. Find out as much as possible about all this. I'll call you if I get anything new." With that, Cliffjumper cut off the transmission, leaving Blurr to nothing but the eerie silence that remained.

He knew where he could start his investigation, though he didn't know how he would be able to speak with the ghosts. He never could before, why would he suddenly be able to now? They definitely were part of this, somewhere in the grand scheme of things. It was up to him to find out what part they had.

Blurr didn't do anything at first. He just stood there, hoping that perhaps this was some sick dream he was having. Praying that it wasn't real. But then again, the weird things always happened to him, right? He sighed and began to move forward, not running at nearly his normal speeds to make sure nothing happened to Rosanna, who still lay limp in his servos.

He had wanted to be a field agent again, but not like this.

The cost wasn't worth it.


End file.
